Classic Love
by blubelle
Summary: Compilation of stories with various pairings all influenced by classic rock songs. Should be about 15 stories that range from a G rating to an R rating. Enjoy. I don't own anything.
1. Back in Black : 18xD

**Title**: A Dangerous Man  
**Fandom**: Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing**: Hibari/Dino; high  
**Rock Song**: #1 Back in Black by AC/DC  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.  
Please enjoy!

** So this is Hibari/Dino in Dino's point of view. Thanks.**

To me, the color black has always meant the onslaught of stagnation. The all encompassing color also brings to mind images of death and desolation, two words I've grown to be very familiar with and have witnessed personally in all their glorious and somehow righteous forms.

As a boy, the black of the night used to terrify me. I kept this fact to myself of course but I'd lie in bed for hours listening to the night and praying that something wasn't coming for me. Every noise that enormous house made would leave me wondering if the time had come and the black of the darkness was going to consume me.

Later, it was a more expansive vision of black. The night sky would look down on me. It never held the pretense of being harmful but it was large, powerful, and seemingly uncaring to the ways of the world. It has always been something that is unreachable and unfathomable.

Nowadays, black makes me think in a more clichéd way. I'm still young yet I've been to more funerals than any normal person. I've had to console my crying friends, relatives, and acquaintances. I, myself have placed a tear stained cheek onto a loved one's shoulder. The black of their owned and never rented tux being the first and last thing I see before losing my self-possession and shrieking into their muscled shoulder, or arm, or chest.

The color black is a large reason why I prefer to wear clothing other than suits. Regardless, of how I've envisioned blackness over the years the picture has always been a grim one.

That is, until I met him.

It was late afternoon and I just realized that I had been strumming my fingers on the dark wood of my desk for awhile. This is a problem because I shouldn't let such menial thoughts occupy me. There are so many other things I should be doing.

I look up at the sound of light tapping on my door.

"Come in." I announce but don't really look to the door.

My new assistant pokes her head in and shimmies herself through the hardly opened door. She pushes her glasses farther up her nose and apologizes for interrupting. Ha, interrupting what?

"It's fine." I said nicely. I like her, the last thing I want to do is scare her off and she _is_ easily intimidated.

"Uh, there's someone here to see you Signore Cavallone. He didn't have an appointment and he isn't in the books so I asked him to leave like you asked. But, he wouldn't leave. He even tried to follow me but your guards stopped him… Then he beat them up. I had to lock him in the other room." She stated in a very flustered manner. She seemed terribly shaken.

I sat up quickly. "How long ago did this happen, just now?" I asked in concern as I approached her.

"No, it was about 15 minutes ago. I didn't want to interrupt you though sir." She said quietly with her head bowed low.

"You didn't have to wait outside. Don't worry about interrupting anything unless I've given you strict instructions that I need my privacy." I stated in an official sort of way.

She nodded her head vigorously and I'm pretty sure she was blushing.

"Now, about this man. Did he have black hair?" I asked while tapping a finger to my chin and pretending to think about who was at my doorstep.

"Yes, yes he did." She said with a blush.

"Did he look Japanese but speak Italian fluently?" I asked again but this time I moved my hands into the pockets of my coat. It was difficult keeping my smile down and I did feel kind of sorry about the fact that I was messing with the poor girl.

"Yes, his Italian was perfect. Do you know him?" She asked, apparently shocked that I had pegged him so precisely.

"I don't know of him personally but I've heard enough about him. He's real dangerous, you did the right thing. You seriously don't want to mess with that man." I said in a low tone.

Her hands flew to cover her mouth and she squealed with the shock of what I was telling her. "Oh no, what should we do now?" She looked scared.

I couldn't hold out any longer and I did feel guilty. I started to smile, which turned into an outright laugh.

"You should let him in, that's what you should do." I said through my laughter. She looked incredibly confused, well at least _I_ got some enjoyment out of this.

"But I thought you said-"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. He's a dangerous man, but he's on our side. Hibari Kyouya, he's an old friend of mine. He comes around every once and awhile so get used to just letting him in.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir." She said while bowing low then turning and scurrying from the room. She doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor. Maybe I'll be able to change that.

I went back toward my desk but stayed on the opposite side of where my large armchair sat. The sky had grown dark and my office was dimly lit by a single desk lamp.

I heard him enter but I didn't turn around.

"You're back?" I asked, but I didn't turn. Instead I just stared out the large back window into the dark night sky.

"Yes." He always was succinct. I finally turned to face him. He looked like he always did. His hair is neat and trimmed perfectly. His suit is always pressed and tidy, always black.

My strides were long when I finally chose to approach him. He didn't take a step back or even look as if he wasn't expecting this from me. Instead he stood his ground and waited.

I acted like I always do. I bumbled forward and pushed my fingers through that soft feather-like hair with less fluidity than I would have liked. He didn't miss a step though and he wound his arms around my waist and pulled me firmly to him. I may have tripped if he hadn't.

He was strong and forceful. He crashed his lips into mine but he did it with grace and a kind of dignity that I've never been able to truly define or imitate. Hibari was unrelenting and wouldn't let me go even when I hinted that we should part with the slight backward tilt of my head. Instead he kissed me harder and fuller.

My hands slid down to bunch the material of his black suit that covered his chest.

I pushed away again. There was something that I needed to do. He let me free this time and I moved over toward my desk. I switched off the small lamp and attempted to wind my way through the dark. There was one other thing that needed to be done.

I only tripped once and I was actually capable of finding the door handle. I pulled it open while Hibari waited for me, I'll assume that he knows what I'm doing.

I went through another door seeking my assistant. She was seated at her desk typing away on her computer. She looked up with surprise when I opened the door.

"Now's one of those times that I'd like my privacy. In fact, you can go home." I said quickly and left before she could say anything. I had more pressing matters to attend to.

I returned clumsily to my office and the moment that I closed that door, his hands were all over me.

This time, I was fully content with letting the blackness envelop me. Hibari Kyouya taught me that black could be inviting, exhilarating, forgiving, and even pleasurable.

I realized quickly that I was extremely grateful that he had come back to me in black.


	2. Bad Moon Rising : 193xKen

**Title: **Number 24  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing: **Chikusa/Ken, medium  
**Rock Song: **#2 Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

Chikusa casually watched Ken suck and lick the meat from his spare rib. He sipped his tea with indifference. His inner thoughts kept him grounded, for the winds were about to shift.

They paid for their meal and left the small restaurant. Falling into an even step next to each other, they began their work. Both had their hands stuffed deep into their pockets with a slight slouch, mimicking each other without meaning to.

The night was clear and lacked any sort of breeze. The low dim of the moon was their only means of light. Ken looked over at the moon that hung so precariously in the darkening sky.

"There's a bad moon on the horizon." He stated nonchalantly and flashed Chikusa a cheesy smile.

Chikusa acted as if he hadn't heard him but looked at the moon nonetheless a few moments later.

They walked into a darkened alley and Ken sniffed around wildly. Chikusa unrelentingly stared up at the perpetual abyss of the black sky and the moon that seemed to hold their fate.

"There. A few paces ahead." Ken said under his breath. Chikusa finally looked down at him and nodded solemnly, one yo-yo encased ominously in his right hand.

The moon continued to rise as they advanced on the unsuspecting student. Number 24 on the list.

Ken descended on him quickly and the guy went down with just one swift elbow to the jaw line.

The winds picked up and the scent of sakura flitted through the slowly moving air. Ken hummed a happy tune that picked up as he reached for the rag in his pocket.

Ken found more enjoyment in this then Chikusa so he chose to sit by the side and watch. He crossed his arms and strummed his fingers against his other arm in tune to Ken's beat. The moon continued to rise amongst the stars.

Ken smirked and Chikusa smiled when they heard the screams of the student as the first tooth was pulled from his mouth. He writhed in pain but Ken's carefully planted knee on his chest kept him fastened to the gritty, broken asphalt. Chikusa thought that Ken almost enjoyed the sharp hits the flailing boy's limbs made when they connected with his body.

The wild one's hum only got louder with each strike the student made as he attempted to struggle himself free. Chikusa's smile widened because he knew that there was no way of escape.

The poor boy continued to struggle even after the fifth, then sixth tooth had been pulled from his gums. The rag in Ken's hand that helped him get a better grip of each individual tooth was doused in blood and even dripped from the corners.

Seven, eight, nine teeth had been thrown to the ground beside Ken's knee and Chikusa just watched silently. His vision moved to the fireflies that had found their way over to the alley from the small wooded field on the other side. They danced and glowed blissfully amongst the destruction they were dealing. It all seemed so perfectly natural.

On the fifteenth tooth Ken grunted loudly when the boy below him made a final ditch effort and clocked him right in the eye. Chikusa figured that the boy probably didn't have much fight left in him but he moved over languidly anyway to give him a sharp clean punch to the face.

Chikusa kneeled on the other side of the body opposite Ken and realized that the other boy had his eyes on him.

Chikusa sighed and lifted his bloodied hand as an offering. Ken's eyes lit up and he took the proffered hand with delight and lapped at the bloody mess. Chikusa watched intently until he heard the soft whistling of a late-night bird fly through the alley and perch itself contentedly on the escape ladder above them.

Ken sucked his knuckles, then each individual digit happily. When he let the hand fall back to its owner he went back to work and extricated the last of the student's teeth.

The winds shifted and swept angrily around them. They looked up at each other as they stood. In an instant they had both broken out into a keen smirk. The tails of their shirts whipped with the wind which seemed to whisper hints of death and ruin.

It was an eye for an eye in this game they played and they both knew that at any point they could be the ones bleeding to death in a cold, dank alleyway. For some reason though, that was why they were silently smirking at one another.

"There is a bad moon on the rise." Chikusa whispered to Ken who grunted and gave the boy at their feet one last quick kick to the ribs.


	3. Baba O'Riley : 59x27

**Title: **Teenage Wasteland  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing: **Gokudera/Tsuna, mild  
**Rock Song: **#3 Baba O'Riley by The Who  
**Rating: **PG  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

Gokudera straightened his overcoat while he and Tsuna walked along the rows of shops on their way home from school. The town was busy. The townspeople walked merrily amongst each other while getting through their day to day.

"I just really thought that test would be easier." Tsuna said in a daze. He had failed it, again.

Gokudera grunted and reached for a cigarette.

"It's okay Tenth. Who cares what the weight of promethium is anyway? None of that really matters." He pulled out a lighter and lit his cigarette gracefully. Gokudera, of course, had aced it.

It came from out of nowhere and in a matter of milliseconds it was speeding right at them.

"Look out!" Gokudera screamed, his newly lit cigarette falling from his lips. He reached for Tsuna subconsciously and pulled him back just as a delivery bike sped past them. Regardless, the bike still nearly ran over their feet.

Gokudera moved out from under Tsuna, who had fallen on him. He stood to shake a fist at the foolish and insensitive delivery boy.

"Watch where you're going asshole!" He screamed at the still speeding biker. He looked down and helped Tsuna stand. "Savages. I swear, this town is full of them. You okay tenth?" Gokudera asked while eyeing Tsuna.

He noticed Tsuna's flushed cheeks but assumed that it was due to his fall. It's moments like these when Gokudera truly realizes why he's so loyal to Tsuna. Gokudera liked to think that Tsuna needed him. He hoped that he needed him and that he wasn't just deluding himself.

After brushing themselves off they continued toward Tsuna's house.

Gokudera angrily lit another cigarette.

They got back relatively quickly and the state of the household was like it usually was. Bianchi was busy cooking some concoction in the kitchen. Her lips were slightly upturned in a graceful, yet mysterious smile while she fervently whisked the ingredients in her mixing bowl. They both avoided the area knowingly.

Tsuna's mother walked through the house with her laundry, happily humming a jingle from a television commercial she had just seen. I-pin and Lambo were running amok. I-pin was screaming something about broccoli while Lambo held a bloody wound on his forehead. He screamed and cried while knocking everything in his path over.

Gokudera casually side-stepped the pair and just barely missed getting clocked by a framed picture they hit off a shelf. He made a disgusted face and wanted nothing more than to get to Tsuna's room as quickly as he could.

Tsuna on the other hand took everything in stride. He'd grown oddly accustomed to the usual destruction laid upon his residence. Gokudera thought about how the state of Tsuna's house reminded him of the outside world.

A wasteland.

Tsuna pulled the door open to his room and Gokudera literally jumped inside. He closed the door behind him and breathed deeply, his forehead resting against the cold closed door.

He heard Tsuna sit on his bed, the creaking of the bed springs resonating throughout the room. Gokudera noted that he saw depression and the admittance of defeat creep over Tsuna's face.

"I still can't believe I failed." Tsuna said dishearteningly. Gokudera sighed and moved over to sit next to him. He let himself sink into the bed before bringing a strong finger down onto the top of his cigarette, letting the ashes dance and scatter to the floor.

"Just don't fight it, it happened. Besides, screw those shitty teachers and their tests." Gokudera said while taking one last drag, burning it down to the filter. He stood to put it out in his ashtray on the table.

Tsuna thought about that for a moment and realized that Gokudera was right. He doesn't need to prove himself. He still wasn't too keen about all this mafia business but chemistry just isn't his thing and he could accept that. Well, none of the other subjects seemed to be his thing either. His face fell again at that last thought. Gokudera turned at that moment and crossed his arms.

He wanted dearly to be there for Tsuna, on all levels. That didn't really seem to be working out though. Gokudera wanted to be more than just Tsuna's right hand man. He wanted more, but even he himself couldn't quite define exactly what that meant.

Tsuna stood as well and walked up to Gokudera. It almost looked like there were tears in those expansive and sometimes unforgiving eyes. Gokudera couldn't look into them, he turned his head.

None of it looked natural to Gokudera. Tsuna's sadness at this moment seemed to contrast sickeningly to all of the happiness that surrounded them. He wanted to reach out and pull him closer. He wanted to embrace Tsuna and as cliché as it was, he wanted to let him know that he'd always be there. That it didn't matter if he failed a course or if his father happened to never be around. He wanted to tell him it was okay to be confused about life. Hell, he could relate in that last category.

But no, he stayed still and attempted to continue looking at nothing in the distance.

Gokudera concluded that someday he would know what should be done. He would know what he wanted. Until that day, all he knew was that he was stuck in this infernal teenage wasteland.


	4. Light My Fire : 27x84 Mature

**Title: **Can't Get Much Higher  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing: **Basil/Tsuna, High  
**Rock Song: **#4 Light my Fire by The Doors  
**Rating: **R  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

As time progressed, things changed of course. Thus is the ways of time. Basil watched silently as Tsuna became increasingly more independent. His development increased at a magnificently rapid rate.

The years went on and Basil tried his hardest to never lose contact with him. He enjoyed his shyness, his antics, and his bashfulness. More than anything though, he loved the brash, determined, and hardened Tsuna that the Dying Will produced.

Tsuna seemed to understand the importance of someone like Basil in his life. He made it abundantly clear that he needed Basil around. Especially since, he was much more accustomed to the lifestyle that had been bestowed upon him.

So when Basil kindly strode into his office one day asking if he wanted to train a little, Tsuna was quick to comply. Truthfully, he was happy to.

A few days later, the mid-afternoon sun looked down on the field they had chosen.

Basil was weary of this training session however. Tsuna was important to him. As time went on he found that he looked up to him, even at one point admitted idolization. Each training session became increasingly more difficult for Basil to begin.

Basil feared what he wanted most with his Dying Will. The Dying Will was very discriminate and it wasn't up to the mind of the person, it was up to their will.

Each time Basil popped open the cap of the small translucent bottle, he had to clear his mind and focus on one thing. I want to defeat Tsuna, not sleep with Tsuna. Regardless of this quasi composure, Basil still feared the worst. He dreaded that with his Dying Will he'd rather touch and caress Tsuna than beat him to a pulp.

On this day Basil did just as he always does. Tsuna eyed him while he put a mitten on each hand and reached for a bottle resembling Basil's. Tsuna stopped what he was doing and watched Basil and his internal struggles. He wondered what was going on.

Basil shook his head a few times. He couldn't keep his mind straight that day. His thoughts kept drifting off to wandering hands over naked flesh. He felt like punching himself.

Tsuna gripped the bottle in his hand but didn't remove the top. Basil didn't look like he was doing to well and he was a little concerned. Tsuna always noticed that Basil had to take a little time to regain himself before popping one of the pills but the process seemed to be lasting longer than usual.

"You okay?" Tsuna asked as he approached him.

Basil's head shot up and it almost looked as if he weren't exactly sure where he was for a moment.

"Yes. Sorry, Sawada-dono. I am not sure what has gotten into me. I apologize for being rude." Basil said with a weak smile. He knew that his silent meditation was going no where that day and by the looks of things he'd really have to reel himself in.

"No, no." Tsuna waved his hands in front of himself frantically. He could never consider Basil rude by any means. "I was just worried. Are you ready?" Tsuna asked curiously.

Basil took a deep breath and nodded solemnly. Tsuna gave him a huge grin before turning and sprinting a few paces away. He turned back around and gave Basil one last smile. Basil looked incredibly fearful and that last smile did nothing to help.

With one last nod Tsuna popped the cap and tapped one pill out of the jar. In one swift, practiced motion he shoved the pill in his mouth and swallowed.

Basil nodded back but was contrastingly hesitant about taking the pill. It was now or never, he thought silently, like a mantra. It was now or never. It was now or never. He tried to find some resolve then popped open the bottle and let a lone pill spill out.

Basil dry swallowed the pill just as the flame on Tsuna's forehead appeared. The last thing Basil noticed before the object had hit his esophagus was that Tsuna's eyes had changed and that he had never been more turned on. That singular thought, spelt trouble.

Tsuna's initial thought pattern revolved around one sentence, 'I will defeat him with my Dying Will'.

Basil's initial thought pattern was utterly consumed by one sentence, 'I will _do_ him with my Dying Will'.

Internally, Basil was screaming for help but something kept him from releasing and forcing down the Dying Will flame within him. Possibly, it was due to the distraction of Tsuna leaping forward to attack.

Tsuna went straight for a punch to the face. He extended his arm forcefully but Basil had just narrowly dodged the fist by bowing low. Basil placed his hands firmly onto the dirt-covered ground and wound his body around. He extended one leg and swept Tsuna's feet out from under him.

Basil didn't waste any time. He knew that Tsuna was on the ground and with his Dying Will he was going to confront the situation.

Tsuna's eyes went large when he felt the weight of Basil assaulting him on the ground. Even in his eyes he looked resolute as he composed himself. He was poised to defend whatever attack was coming.

Instead of an elbow to the sternum, Tsuna felt forceful lips connect with his. In an instant the flame on his forehead had disappeared.

His eyes remained opened and he looked absolutely shocked by what was going on. He pushed Basil back and noted the blue flame that still clung to his brow. Tsuna's initial thought was whether this was Basil's Dying Will.

Basil was unwavering and pushed against Tsuna's hands for access to his lips. Tsuna thought he had more control than this. Isn't this about the time that Basil realizes what is going on and subdues the power of the Dying Will? Tsuna didn't understand what was happening.

Basil at the time was equally confused. He couldn't suppress his Dying Will. He began to scrape and claw at Tsuna's clothing and he quickly realized that his body was indiscriminately working for him. He figured Tsuna realized this at the same time because the extended arms that seemed to be attached to Basil's shoulders relaxed a little. Basil took this opportunity to shoot forward and reclaim his lips.

Tsuna had figured that if Basil couldn't currently control his will than he couldn't either. Besides, the idea of what was happening didn't exactly seem so awful. In fact, he realized that he had absolutely no qualms about letting Basil's Dying Will take over.

Tsuna had grown up a lot and with this maturity he learned that sometimes you just have to give in to what feels right.

Basil kissed him hard with confidence that he never would have exposed without the Dying Will.

Without hesitation Basil's hands began to wander. Pulling, groping, grasping, scraping down and across Tsuna's still clothed body. Tsuna removed the soft mittens from his hands but they remained by his side, still unsure of the situation.

Basil moved his lips down and settled on Tsuna's neck. He kissed and sucked his way up to Tsuna's ears. At that moment, it was all over. Tsuna's breathing got a little heavier and he melted into Basil's soft explorations.

Basil grabbed each of Tsuna's arms and placed them around his neck. He too wrapped his hands around Tsuna's upper body. With this position he lifted his sparring partner's upper half off the ground and tore his shirt up and over Tsuna's head. The light dirt and sand picked up from the removal of the shirt and clung in the air.

Within the cloud of dust, Basil pushed Tsuna back down. He began kissing his way down his chest, creating a hot, wet river of shudders and goosebumps.

Amongst the dusty air and his clouded judgment, Tsuna realized what was about to happen. The freedom that he encountered when the tight top bottom of his pants were undone clenched his hypothesis.

He sat up immediately. "Wait!" Tsuna panicked. Basil on the other hand just looked up at him coolly with half-lidded eyes. He reached up and pushed Tsuna back down onto the ground. He was entirely at his mercy.

Basil kissed around the rim of his pants then moved down to breathe, slow and warm, where Tsuna's pants bulged. Tsuna let out a rough, ragged breath. Basil moved his mouth up just as Tsuna lazily lifted his head. Tsuna watched his attacker take his zipper between his teeth and pull it down slowly and smoothly. As if he'd done this many times before.

At the sight before him he let out a moan from deep in his throat and let his head fall back onto the ground, hard.

Basil tapped his hips, ushering him to lift his bottom half up. Tsuna did as he was told and in moments the only two articles of clothing that kept him from sheer nakedness were smoothed down to his knees.

He gasped as fresh air hit him. That sensation was nothing compared to the anticipation of what was to come. When Tsuna glanced up a second time all he could see was the blue flame of Basil's Dying Will. Coincidentally, it lit a fire in his belly and he began to writhe subconsciously. His eyes drifted closed. His impatience mingled with yearning.

Basil looked hungrily at the sight before him. Tsuna was writhing below him and it only made him want to attack that much more. He bent low and breathed hot and slowly over Tsuna's erection. This only lasted a second and in no time Tsuna craned his neck. His head flew back when Basil's lips encircled his tip.

He sucked slowly while circling his tongue over the small opening. Tsuna's hands fisted the dirt and his legs began to move without him willing them to.

Basil looked up toward Tsuna at that moment but all he could see was the underside of his chin and his exposed neck. He reached for Tsuna's hands and found them, all while continuing his ministrations. He directed his hands into his straight, shoulder-length hair and signaled just what he wanted.

Tsuna fisted his hair and at Basil's requisition he began to pull. Basil seemed encouraged by his acquiescence and took him fully into his mouth.

He gagged a few times, his body not used to this form of intrusion; but after a few dips he had a rhythm going and the reflex eased. Tsuna continued to pull at his hair, harder even than before. None of this seemed to deter Basil. In fact, it nearly coaxed him to continue with more fervor.

Basil's hands needed the inside of Tsuna's thighs while he continued to suck and swallow his length. Occasionally his mouth would rise to the tip and he'd suck graciously at the pre-cum that gathered there. When the continuous motion got tiring Basil would release Tsuna into the chilling air. The sensation bringing on new shivers due to the cold air hitting his wet member. At this time Basil began to pump him in his hand. A few moments later he swallowed hard and brought his lips back onto the tip of Tsuna's length, sucking while still moving his hand up and down at an incredible pace.

Tsuna was moaning now and whispering little bits of nonsense, his fingers still gripped in Basil's hair. He nearly screamed when Basil's mouth completely encased him once again. He knew that he wouldn't last much longer.

He attempted to sit up a little and eventually succeeded. He watched Basil's head bob up and down on him and his eyes nearly crawled into the back of his skull.

The thought of coming kind of scared him. He thought that he should warn Basil but he couldn't form any words. When he did, they came out as jumbled masses of consonants with whispered vowels accompanied by hushed whimpering that made his sentences completely indistinguishable.

Instead, he decided to accept his loss of syntax and came with an inaudible scream.

Basil choked a little but managed to swallow and even continue to suck. Tsuna's shoulders sagged and he hadn't even noticed how tense he'd been. His vision focused and he looked down at Basil. The first thing he noticed was the lack of Basil's Dying Will flame. The second thing he noticed was the look on Basil's face.

His expression could only be described as one of guilt and shame. Tsuna began to panic. He knew that Basil didn't want this. Why did he let it continue?

His fear escalated when he saw Basil look away and begin to move. Tsuna's hands darted out thoughtlessly and he pulled him back to look at him.

Basil looked up fearfully. His eyes widened when Tsuna brought his face even closer and pressed his lips to his firmly. It was a hard kiss and his lips moved slowly against Basil's. After a few seconds they parted and Tsuna looked into his eyes determinedly.

"Wow." Tsuna said with a smile. Basil looked as if he had been put at ease with that and he gave him a small smile back. He really thought he'd be apologizing at that point, but things seemed to be the complete opposite of expectations.

With a wide smile Tsuna smoothed his hand through the hair that he had just been so forcefully pulling moments ago. While looking at Basil's soft, happy features he thought how he'd have to concentrate more if he ever planned on actually sparring with him again.


	5. War Pigs : Rx56

**Title: **Prelude to a Busy Night  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing: **Adult!Reborn/Adult!Colonello, medium  
**Rock Song: **#5 War Pigs by Black Sabbath  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

.-.-.-.

I walked casually into the sub base. I was a mess and there was no denying it. Small droplets of blood were scattered haphazardly across my camouflage shirt, cargo pants and jacket. Not to mention, I could paint a shower stall brown with the amount of jungle mud that covered nearly every inch of my exposed skin.

Despite all of this, I kept my head high. I'd completed what I set out to do and more in fact. I managed to gain some intelligence; however, I had to get my hands a little dirty.

I passed Lal on my way in and she greeted me with a small smile that indicated that she'd be around later to discuss things, possibly over a drink or four. She was on her way out and I nodded in a way that translated to 'see you later and an even looser translation would find the gesture saying 'do your best'.

I strode down the hallway. It was long and cold but I knew my destination was warm and inviting. That thought kept me going.

Each time my large steel toed boots smacked against the metallic flooring I knew I was getting closer and because of that my mind began to drift despite the racket my walking created.

Heel, toe. I was suffocated by my frenzied thoughts.

'Would he be there?' ba dum. 'Of course he will be' ba dum. 'Does he want to see me?' ba dum. 'He always does' ba dum. 'I want to see him' ba dum. 'I need to see him' ba dum.

I steadily wound my hand around the door handle and pulled without a second thought.

"Colonello. How nice to see you." He said the moment that I entered. He spoke as if he hadn't been expecting me. As if my visit were a surprise. I undoubtedly knew better.

He garnered a look of respect and sent it my way, therefore, I didn't take offense when he put his fingers to the brim of his hat and kept them there, motionlessly. No one was graced with the refined and respectful tip of a hat from Reborn. Even someone such as myself.

He removed his hand and let it slide across the top of the chair next to him. He was lean and regal, his actions reflecting his reverence to the dark cherry wood and the artisan who created such a grand piece of work.

He looked up at me with the same expression. His fingers left the back of the chair but they stayed still in the air.

That look, ba dum. It shot through me with a precision that was simply… Reborn, ba dum. Still he didn't move, ba dum. The look he gave me said 'come with me', ba dum. 'Be mine tonight' ba dum.

I nearly took a step back when he began to approach me. Each step was fluid, calculated, and knowing. My current state was messy and incongruous however he never once looked me up and down. Instead his eyes stayed steady on my face.

In moments his eyesight disconnected with my own and for some reason, I knew what was coming.

With his face pointed down he looked up at me again, this time with heat in his eyes and a grin on his lips. I replied with a smirk.

He extended a strong arm out toward his right and bowed a little, his elbow at his waist. A stationary, reverent hand ushering me toward the small bed chamber beyond the door to my left.

"You can drink with Lal another time." He was right. She'd have to wait.

I'll be busy tonight.


	6. Pour Some Sugar On Me : 69x18

**Title: **Soaking up the Elements  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing: **Mukuro/Hibari, medium  
**Rock Song: **#6 Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.Nothing is sacred to him.

.-.-.-.

He's an enigma, an apparition, a complete mystery, and he knows it.

In the dark he billows out from the darkest corner of my room. His shadowy presence dances through the air and paints pictures on my floor, his medium consisting solely of the moonlight from my window. When he reaches my bed he solidifies atop me. He ravishes and inflicts pain. He knows everything I want, even things I hadn't acknowledged.

In the end, the illusionist seeps back into the darkness, the last image in my mind being only of those mismatched eyes.

Privacy means nothing to him.

I attempt to take a short, unhindered shower. Instead, amongst the mist and condensation he smilingly emerges. He doesn't seem real at first. He appears as a smoky silhouette behind me. The hotter the area gets the easier it is to see and identify his naked body.

At times like these he's nimble and graceful, while soaking up the elements around him. He kisses every inch of my body and I scowl as I watch him.

I hate him.

I hate him for disrupting my solitude, for disrupting my life. I hate him for his surprise visits and for making me want it.

I hate myself for steadily wanting _him_. For now, I can't object; I can't say 'no'. I'll just continue letting him pour it on me.


	7. Barracuda : BxF

**Title: **The Princess and her Prince  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing: **Bianchi/Fuuta, medium  
**Rock Song: **#7 Barracuda by Heart  
**Rating: **PG  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**Side Note:** I'd really like to say thank you to **Broken Vows** who has been nothing but loyal and supportive. I love her and, well, she's simply the best. Thanks again and I hope you keep reading.

Enjoy!

**Point of view is that of some drunkin' barfly (not Fuuta). He's a fun one.**

.-.-.-.

The double doors of Swindler's Bar swung open and banged against the walls loudly. Essentially, this is why I turned around. Normally, I don't concern myself with the drunkards, the old sailors, or the pimped mafiosos that stumble in and out of this place. I prefer my solitude, especially when surrounded by my favorite men, Jim, Jack, Johnny, and Jose.

This little bar doesn't see too much action anyway.

I almost spilt my shooter when she entered the room so grandiosely. _Somehow_ I managed to keep my hold on the small glass of whiskey (my preferred drink for the night).

One look at her though was all I needed to either slide the drink over to the broken ex-marine or down it with a few others.

She looked like the type that ate men whole. The type of woman who didn't take anyone's shit. She'd just as easily hold a .357 magnum revolver to your temple as she would paint her toe nails.

I looked around at the sad excuse for the male population that infested the smoky bar. Some shot her an inviting smile but I knew she wouldn't be that easy to crack. Others looked as if they were in tears while downing the gin and tonics they'd been nursing the whole night. They were probably drinking their relationship woes away while projecting 'the one that got away' onto her lovely face. Others crossed their legs, and one man even folded his napkin and placed it strategically over his lap to hide the bulge.

It pained me when I realized that most of the men in the bar were either old perverts or too young to realize what she could really offer them. Maybe that's just my arrogance talking though.

I turned to the bartender, a haggard old woman with a snaggle-tooth and a horse-face. She was the sort of woman who'd looked as if she'd taken a few too many of her customers home on cold, or hell, even hot nights. I'm sure even grown men gasped in the morning when they realized what they'd woken up next to after the beer goggles had worn off.

Despite all that, I'd never give her any trouble. She was a kind woman who never married and simply hated kids. Oh, and grown men who acted childish. She always said she'd never put a bouncer on the pay-role because she could kick your ass out of her establishment free of cost to her.

"You ever seen her around, Garnett?" I asked over the din of the late night bar scene.

I turned back around and watched the mysterious woman wind and sway around the mismatched wooden tables as I swirled my drink. She swam through the crowd of voracious, deprived men. My best bet would be that she could bite back harder. She was beautiful and uncaring. I knew for a fact that it wasn't the liquor that created that perfectly toned body and lithe, fluid movement.

"Sure I have. Son, she comes in on occasion. She always sits alone, drinks her bourbon or scotch. You going after that, boy? I seen many a man fail before 'ya, but go ahead. I could use a good laugh on such a slow night." She finished drying the glass in her hand and put it away.

"Is that right, Garnett?" I asked, my eyes never leaving her face. What Garnett didn't realize was that the word 'failure' simply wasn't in my nature.

She sat herself in the booth closest to my seat at the bar and that was all I needed. Fate was begging me to slide on over, drink in hand and whisk her away.

What I didn't realize at the time was that fate's a bitch.

I ordered Jameson on the rocks, downed the last of my whiskey and ushered Garnett forward for a refill. Before I could step down from my barstool though, the double doors swung open again. This time with less force.

Since she walked in I will forever direct my immediate attention to those swinging doors. I was shocked to find an entirely different image than the smooth, enticing woman that entered just moments ago.

Instead, in her wake stood a young man with soft features and a striped scarf wrapped around his neck. He stood in the doorway while searching the room. Oh, this bar could eat this kid alive if it wanted to. He looked too young and too naïve to the harshness of the world.

He stood out contrastingly even more as he moved through the bar. He was nothing compared to the old, grizzled veterans and the mean, built bikers that cluttered the bar seats.

Shockingly, the kid's eyes were set on one person, my Goddess. His stride was surprisingly sure and I realized quickly that I kind of hoped he was walking up to her just so I could see my lovely barracuda chew this little fish up and spit him back out. I invariably began picturing this scenario. I put both drinks back on the bar and smiled.

He was inching closer and my smile only grew. The boy even seemed to garner Garnett's steadfast attention.

The kid tapped on her perfect shoulder. "You come here often?" He asked. Oh, a line that's just asking for a strike-out. Here it is, the moment of impact.

My princess turned and looked up at him and just when I thought she was going to shatter the poor boys hopes, something inconceivable happened.

She smiled, stood and kissed him… hard. My grin drained from my face from a leak in my jaw which hung wide and open.

"You came!" I heard her say ecstatically. This couldn't be happening.

"I missed you, Bianchi. I haven't seen you in awhile. Sorry I had to leave so suddenly after the honey-moon, Tsuna-nii asked for my help." The man said apologetically with another kiss.

I had to force myself from the scene. It was killing me worse than the drink.

This one singular moment undermined all my years of reading people, my ideals on picking up chicks, and my perspective on the entirety of my life.

But I can't let this get me down. No, that's not an option. I swallowed both drinks thirstily. My princess had found her prince.

In the end, I know I may drink like a fish. But hell, I'm still young. I can swim with the best of them. To paraphrase the utterly cliché, 'it's a big sea out there and there are still plenty of other fish ready for the chase'. However, until the day I die, I'll know that that barracuda was one I could have only dreamed of catching.

"He better take care of her". With that said, I ordered myself another strong one.


	8. Bohemian Rhapsody : Shax59

**Title: **Skittles and Paranoia  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn!  
**Pairing: **Gokudera/Shamal; mild  
**Rock Song: **#8 Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen  
**Rating: **PG-13; **Warning **character death  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**.-.-.-.-.**

"_You don't seem like the type to likes sweets." I stated with an uncaring monotone._

"_I don't. These are an exception." He stated while dipping the package of rainbow skittles into his palm and picking out the red ones._

That was a long time ago.

For years I've spent time asking myself, 'is this real? Or is this just some fantasy my homophobic mind has created?'

I've spent years, too many years, living through my paranoia. I've slept with too many women to count and unsuccessfully chased hundred of other pretty faces. But for what?

I'm beginning to not be able to dismiss my aging. I look around my apartment in Italy and all I see is furniture. It's empty and cold. Every piece, haphazardly selected without care. Each is polished to perfection. Every ounce of my spotless apartment reflects my image as I look down on it.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the small bag. I rip it open as I sit uncomfortably on my leather sofa. Looking down at my coffee table it mirrors my face and with a grunt I scatter the colored hard candies across the hard wood of the table.

Each piece slams to the oak with a cacophony of mismatched clatters. A rainbow of displeasure before me; and with each individual skittle I consume, I slowly feel my sanity melting away.

Why did he stay so attached to me? Why me? Ever since the training we did for his battle over the ring Gokudera made sure that he was a constant in my life, even despite the hard times I gave him.

I tried to ignore his glances, the way he hovered, his incessant appearances throughout the rest of my life.

At first it was easy. I pushed him away just like I did the rest of the male population. It became commonplace and felt necessary. As time went on it got harder to ignore him but I overlooked that fact and let the delusions overtake me.

He was too stubborn for that though and I suppose that youth will do that to a person.

I eventually opened a new clinic and even then, his visits got more frequent.

I began fingering the little purple skittle and I watch as some of the sticky glaze coats the tips. The only thing I ever saw him eat were skittles and that weirded me out even more for some reason. He always ate the red ones first. He'd offer them to me for some reason and I would always decline and tell him to leave. I easily shoved him away.

He got a little bolder, nothing serous, yet I still viewed it as an attack. Just a handshake here or there, a removal of something from my unkempt hair, or the brush of a hand when shoving dropped or needed items into my palm. It was a lot like young romance in which the boy offers the girl a neck rub even though his hands are tired and he really doesn't want to. He really just wants that one chance to be allowed physical contact without being stigmatized. I noticed all of this –of course- but I quickly attributed it to my paranoia and let it all slide.

I finally let myself realize what was happening a few years later when he asked if he could help around the clinic. God, he even offered himself as a test subject. The illusion I'd created and stood behind finally dissipated.

From then on, things only got worse. Blinded by my built up fears and twisted ideologies, things began to get really bad.

First came the name calling. Fag, homo, and numerous other slanderous terms became so unnervingly natural for everyday use. It started out sarcastic but it turned mean and vindictive real fast. Gokudera would scowl at me and play it off as an insult to his masculinity but under it all, I could see the pain I was inflicting.

Reverting back, I let myself believe it wasn't really there, so it continued.

The touches stopped, as well as the looks, and he kept a considerable amount of distance from me at all times. For some reason though, that stubborn bastard kept visiting. I would look at him and I found that the whole charade was really wearing him down. An old river was flowing through him and tearing down the weaker parts until something new lied in its wake. I'm pretty sure I heard that from some old drunkard in a bar down the street. One of those guys who thinks that old age is a natural harbinger of wisdom. Well it isn't.

I squeeze another skittle between my fingers and let the white almost iridescent insides spew out the casing of the candy now softened from the warmth of my fingers. With all of this reflection I can see now that regardless of how I treated him, I really had gotten used to the fact that he was always around.

I hated that he kept coming around, and I think that we both secretly saw the action as a weakness. Sadly, I think I figured that that wouldn't change.

Eventually, when he finally hit his twenties, the visits became sporadic and soon they stopped altogether.

I fell hard into my research and my clinical work. There was a new woman every night but I blindly didn't make any connection.

I pushed aside every stray thought I had concerning him and I soon found myself thinking of Gokudera more than ever before. I began to get confused, sloppy even. Nothing seemed right but I couldn't get myself to change anything. I should have.

It's so easy to think retrospectively. It's all I do now. Along with sitting alone in my empty apartment guzzling skittles in silence. It's only going to get worse after tonight. I suppose that this is the beginning of all of it.

Most people find themselves when they're young. They travel, try new things and essentially realize what type of person they are. It's incredibly depressing to think that I'm just now realizing who I truly am.

He came to me tonight and oddly enough when I heard the knocking I knew it was him, even despite his long absence. Now that I think about it, it was probably more hope than an intrinsic form of mystic intuition.

The hardest thing for me to grasp is the fact that I know that if the situation had been a different one, I would have slammed the door in his face. All that soul searching and realizations would have been for nothing, that is, until I twisted that handle and pulled my office door open.

He fell through the doorway, a mass of blood and sounds of pain. He was motionless in front of me, face down. His breathing was ragged and uncontrollable gurgling sounds escaped his lips due to blood-filled lungs.

My mind stopped functioning at that moment. When he began to move my heart leapt and I exhaled deeply. His head lifted from the pooled blood on the floor and he looked up at me with a smile. The last thing I wanted to see on that face was a smile. It was an expression that said, 'I knew you'd be here because I know _you_'. But Gokudera would never have said anything remotely as sentimental as that.

I checked what wounds I could see and quickly moved him to the couch in the corner. I knew that with his head wound it wasn't smart to move him but he looked like he was on the brink of death. I idly wondered how the hell he'd gotten to my place.

Every inch of him was covered in blood, his blood. He was dying.

I pulled off his stained clothing and attempted to stop the bleeding. He had multiple gun-shot wounds and it looked as if a bullet had grazed the side of his head.

His eyes never left my face. I hadn't been able to look at him though.

I remember him saying, "I don't want to die." It made me finally look up at him. Despite what he said, the look on his face told me that he wanted death to come.

He told me at that moment that he had always loved me and I told him that I'd always known.

Throughout all of the years that I'd inflicted pain on the kid I'd never seen him look as hurt as he did at that moment.

With that one look, my entire life changed. I'm not sure of how much yet, but I knew that it did. And, for the first time since I was young, I began to cry.

We both knew that he was going to die but I still tried everything that I could to stop the bleeding. My vision was blurred and I began to choke around the lump in my throat.

He finally looked away from me while saying that nothing really mattered.

I was shocked, even more so than when I first found him slowly dying on my doorstep. I wiped my eyes and turned his face to look at me.

I told him that I was sorry for everything I put him through. I talked about how stupid and ignorant I've always been. That I shouldn't have pushed him away when I knew that I needed him more than anyone else. He smiled kindly at what I'd said and my crying continued because I knew that I really didn't deserve it.

I bent down and tilted his face a little for a kiss. Then more kisses came. Short pecks surrounded by repeated apologies.

He didn't respond, he didn't cry or speak. He just lied there and watched me.

The last thing I wanted him to think was that I was just catering to a dying kid's only real wish and I knew I wasn't, but I also knew that that was how it seemed to him.

I kissed him one last time and it was during that kiss that I felt the last remnants of life leave him.

Blinking a few times, I look around my empty apartment. I avert my eyes from my less than subtle solitude and look down at my bloodied hands wondering how different things would have been if I had just admitted to needing another man. I shoved my hand into my hair and rubbed at my face roughly. Where would we be if I had just pushed aside all of my stupid little fears and barriers and just accepted him?

I moved all of the red skittles aside and ate the rest.

Where_would_ the wind have blown?


	9. Smells Like Teen Spirit : 59x80

**Title: **The Marathon  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn!  
**Pairing: **Gokudera/Yamamoto; medium  
**Rock Song: **#9 Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana  
**Rating: **PG  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**.-.-.-.-.**

For some reason, unbeknownst to Gokudera, he always found himself gravitating toward Yamamoto after his practices.

Yamamoto in his commonly naïve way always passed off the extra attention as Gokudera's way of just being overly friendly.

What he should have realized is that Gokudera in never overly friendly, or even _friendly _by any means; especially toward him.

Gokudera began going to a few of his practices. He stood far away but watched intently nonetheless. Conflicted and confused, Gokudera always pretended as if he were just passing by so that he could walk the local baseball star home.

He couldn't understand what it was that kept him so captivated. He hated baseball.

Gokudera tried to ignore the dreams and the way his body reacted to Yamamoto on those hot days after practice. He got really good at playing off his nonchalance, not that Yamamoto would realize that anything was going on anyway. He never even questioned their coincidental meetings after nearly every one of his practices.

Gokudera was extremely bothered by his fixation on the other teen and after awhile things only got worse. What frustrated him the most was that he had subconsciously categorized Yamamoto's practice schedule. He got less excited about batting practice, and his favorite practice days were when a large amount of laps were imposed on the players.

The sweat

The struggle

His tanned skin

And that breathy smile

All of this spurred him on yet he still didn't know how to react to all of it. He could apply the quadratic equation and he could write fluently in Italian, Japanese, and English, but this? This he couldn't handle empirically.

A part of him wanted it all to stop and another side got more and more excited as time went on.

A year went by and he started to get sloppy and stupid by his standards. They had both changed a lot since everyone returned from the future.

Yamamoto took up his favorite sport again and played as if he hadn't taken any time off from the game. As far as Gokudera could tell, he'd gotten better.

Despite all of the things that had changed between them, Gokudera still tried to remain casual and he still made up excuses for the fact that he waited around until Yamamoto's practice was over. Yamamoto was far more adept to what was happening around him now. The future had changed him a lot. Gokudera had to be more and more clever each day.

On a particularly hot day, Gokudera sat back in his favorite viewing spot and watched the team run laps. They had won their last game, however they were still getting punished for something. Gokudera didn't understand it but his heart began to beat faster regardless.

His eyes never strayed from Yamamoto while he jogged amongst his teammates. He had to pry his eyes away just to tilt his head down to light a cigarette. When he lifted his head again to watch the practice he could have sworn that Yamamoto was looking directly at him while continuing his jog.

Nothing was said after practice ended and Gokudera walked him home all the same. The next practice mirrored the last but this time Gokudera noticed how often it seemed that Yamamoto was staring up toward him. Gokudera was older now, a year ago he would have gotten flustered and moved to another spot or even quit watching his practices altogether.

Instead, Gokudera just stared back. He kept up his usual routine and continued to smoke and watch. And still, he walked him home nearly everyday.

One day when their practice fell on an extremely humid and warm day Gokudera walked beside Yamamoto, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other limply holding a cigarette. Yamamoto was happily talking about his practice and they both knew that his synopsis was pointless because Gokudera had been there the entire time.

Gokudera watched him out of the corner of his eye and excitedly followed a bead of sweat drop down his neck. He loved the way Yamamoto smelled after practice. That clean deodorant smell mixed with a hint of dirt and musk. He couldn't seem to get enough of it and he moved to walk a little closer so that his smell could better embrace him.

The scent that pervaded his olfactory completely masked all of his other senses. He could no longer taste the bitterness of tar from his cigarette and his body became numb. His vision was pinpointed on Yamamoto and nothing else. All he could hear was the happiness in his voice.

At that moment, just like when he was younger, his body took over and he unthinkingly pulled Yamamoto into a long deserted alleyway he previously didn't know existed.

In a flash he flicked his cigarette away and pinned him against the nearest mold-covered brick wall. He shifted his body weight forward and placed his lips over Yamamoto's. He didn't react at first, but as quickly as his previous movements, Gokudera found himself shoved against the opposing wall. His only thought at that moment was that Yamamoto was going to take a swing at him. He even moved his head to the side in hopes of a glancing blow.

Instead, he felt his head being tilted forward and Yamamoto kissing him back. The alley was getting dark but nothing mattered. Yamamoto was surprisingly rough and he continued to push Gokudera against the wall while he kissed him.

Yamamoto pulled back after awhile and looked at Gokudera.

"How long have you been watching my practices?" He asked calmly.

"About a year. Maybe more." Gokudera responded through his heavy breathing.

Yamamoto nodded and Gokudera figured that he hadn't known the exact amount of time before now.

Yamamoto dipped his head again and began a series of short kisses. He spoke around each kiss, "I hope I entertained you."

"You are now".


	10. Only the Good Die Young 59x27

**Title: **The Perfect Setting  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn!  
**Pairing: **Gokudera/Tsuna; medium  
**Rock Song: **#10 Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel  
**Rating: **R for language  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.v

**.-.-.-.-.-.**

Flowers were fucking everywhere. Calla lilies placed delicately in groups all over the room. They're supposed to mean something but I really don't give a shit about any of that. All I know is that flowers don't let a person forget.

A symbol of beauty my ass. To me, they're disgusting and I couldn't wait until they were dead and mangled. I wanted to remove their water sources to speed the process because _that_ is reality.

The families assembled along with many other affiliated and allied families. Needless to say the event was an ordeal, and it pissed me off.

I blinked a few times, not because I thought I was going to cry but because all the fucking flowers were messing with my allergies.

Every condolence was ambiguous, each person that confronted me were faceless, blank machines spouting nonsense and not even varying nonsense. Each said the same overplayed lines. I didn't really register what they said, but I knew that all the 'blahs' and 'boo hoos' sounded exactly the same.

Even Yamamoto, who had knowledge of my situation didn't have anything new to say.

I moved over to his casket and looked down at him, but not for long. I swung myself around and moved away while lighting another cigarette.

The funeral home was non-smoking but to hell with it. I'd already been asked to either put it out or step outside. I wanted to stub it out in their faces.

I ignored every mechanical being I passed and moved over to the framed picture of him in the center of the room. It wasn't a very good picture. It didn't capture his smile or his laughter or even his occasional seriousness. It all felt bland and I turned the photo face down because it was simply an injustice.

I flicked the ashes off the end of my cigarette wherever I chose to. It took my mind off of the mindless androids that flitted through the room just to watch the individual ashes dance through the air.

I was jerked from my mindless staring when Haru pulled me aside and asked me how I was 'holding up'. I stared with unflinching indifference at her. Somehow she knew my situation too. What a waste of time. I didn't really acknowledge her at all and I just walked away from her without answering.

Afterward, I moved over to infest a different corner of the room with my smoke and self-pity.

Looking across the crowded room, I noticed that someone had righted his picture once again. I shook my head slowly and brought the cigarette up to rest between my lips. I could almost feel him staring at me through the gloss and glass. I took out another cigarette and puffed on the end of it while placing the lit end of the old one to it. I smashed the finished cigarette into the poorly upholstered armchair to my side.

Cigarettes, now that was what was 'holding me up'. I took another long drag from the new one, loving the feeling of thirst and dryness in my mouth due to smoking too much.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step outside. This is a non-smoking establishment." The little bald pastor, or reverend, or preacher, or whatever the hell he was spoke quietly. Oh the audacity. Who ever heard of a nonsmoking… _anything_ in Italy? I felt like punching him right in his little red nose.

So I did. He should have known better than to fuck with a Mafioso.

I quickly strode from the premises when the shrieking and chiding began.

I stand by the fact that he had it coming.

Outside, the leaves were falling. I somehow felt attached to the brown, and gold, and orange, and green leaves. Especially with the green ones.

It was a brisk day, sunny and cloudless. The perfect setting I guess.

A little later –thankfully- the coffin was being prepared to be lowered. The small balding man held his bloody nose while he spoke his flowery words about someone he didn't know. Someone he couldn't even begin to know. Fuck him; the old man had it coming.

And still, there were fucking flowers everywhere. They mingled disruptively with the leaves, choking out their beauty and serenity with pallor and a nasty aroma.

I stood in the front row, never taking my eyes off of the dark hard wood of his container. The crying around me was subdued but still stifling.

I jumped and almost dropped my cigarette when a few women to the left of me began wailing. They were lowering the casket. I watched its smooth descent with pseudo-indifference. Hadn't anyone else prepared themselves for this moment?

Oh, just me? That's fucking grand.

They should've known that they were the lucky ones because really, this was all a formality. Dirt will never actually be thrown down onto the coffin except for the few handfuls dropped from tearstained fists. No, this isn't his final resting place. Later, he'll be moved somewhere safer and I have to help with my straining façade of composure.

The casket slowly shifted underground and soon it was out of sight. Okaa-sama put a loving hand on my shoulder. Somehow she knew too, knew my situation and that I'd have to look at that intricately carved coffin far longer than anyone else today.

I took another drag and looked around me at all of the pitiful looks of those that I knew. Why the hell was everyone looking at me? Am I supposed to make some sort of speech? A eulogy perhaps? Or should I just make the announcement they've all been speculating over for years so that everyone can 'ooh' and 'ah' to their hearts content? So they can revel in the juicy controversy that is my situation?

Do they all really want to know?

We were lovers alright! I was in love with him! We fucked, we had sex, we made love. Is that what they want to hear? I could almost feel them leaning closer so as to hear my outcry but I never voiced any of it.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to relax myself. They didn't really know. It was all in my head.

I leant toward Okaa-sama and moved my mouth closer to her ear. "I will always love your son. Tsuna meant everything to me." I whispered.

She moved her head and whispered back that she knew then she thanked me.

I felt the prick of a tear in one eye but I blinked hard to stave off the emotion. Maybe I hadn't prepared myself for this as much as I'd thought. The anger helped, but that was gone now. I continued to chain smoke and I stood staring at the whole in the ground while everyone else dispersed.

This is really the end, this is mortality. I could almost feel the tears coming again but I would have to save that for later.

For now, the only absolute in my life is that I'm standing all by myself. All that's left is me, that whole, and my little green leaf.


	11. Dyer Maker : 80x59 Mature

**Title: **Roll of the Dice  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn!  
**Pairing: **(Adult!)Yamamoto/(Adult!)Gokudera; High  
**Rock Song: **#11 Dyer Maker by Led Zeppelin  
**Rating: **NC-17 not too graphic though...  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece. Always use a condom.

**.-.-.-.-.**

His room had been silent for awhile. He pushed the 10th to let him back in the field but he refused and only gave him a few odd jobs to help him keep his mind off of things.

Needless to say, he was in a bad way.

Things didn't get too messy tonight. However, I had been working overtime. I was incredibly happy to hear that the 10th was going to let him get back into the game now. I hate to admit it but I need the backup.

And here I am, at present, standing outside his door just staring at it like a fool. I let my eyes drift to my shoes with a grunt. What the hell was I thinking coming here?

I paced along the hallway subconsciously and soon found myself lighting yet another cigarette. I stopped momentarily, exhaling the soothing stream of smoke and took another glance at his ominous doorway.

"Fuck it." I growled and strode with false confidence toward the door. I let the cigarette dangle from my lips as I rapped on the door vigorously.

I listened for the shuffling behind the closed door and took a step back when I guessed that it would swing open.

He poked his head out, his expression changing from confusion to something I couldn't quite recognize.

"Gokudera?" He asked slowly and articulately.

"You look like shit." I stated as I put my fingers to my mouth and removed the cigarette from my lips. I put my hand on the middle of the door and pushed my way past him despite his protests. I'm simply done dealing with his bullshit.

Yamamoto came up from behind me after shutting the door and apologized for the state of his room.

It was a mess. Dirty clothes were piled and scattered across the threshold. Trash littered the floor. The only places that carpet was actually visible were a small pathway from the door to the bed then from the bed to the bathroom.

I gave him a look that indicated my displeasure and well, it _was_ a little repulsive. He looked nothing short of utterly embarrassed. As he should be.

"You weren't supposed to see this." He stated sadly and moved over to sit on his bed. I ignored the statement and continued to assess the room.

"10th says you're back in the field tomorrow but now I'm not quite sure if that's a good idea." I stated as I took another drag. I ashed on his floor uncaringly. Nothing could improve or even add to the current state of the room.

"No, no. I'm fine. I just need to do some cleaning. I was fine a week ago, seriously." He stated, standing up suddenly and beginning to shove piles of clothes into big, quasi-neater heaps.

I moved over to this bed and sat calmly, eyeing him as he went about the room. I turned my attention to the cigarette between my fingers and I watched the smoke billow from the end with far more interest.

"Stop ashing on my floor. Here." He said as he handed me my ash tray. He always kept one in his room for me.

He stopped his futile cleaning and sat beside me.

"I need another room."

"Why is that?" I asked. I put out my cigarette and placed the ash tray on his bedside table after shoving a few items off of it to make room of course.

"Well, because this is where I found out. This room is depressing." He looked down at his clasped hands as he spoke. "That's why I wanted Tsuna to give me an assignment."

"So you wouldn't be holed up in your room crying?" I asked. He nodded solemnly.

"I kept telling him I was fine."

"Come on. Even a week doesn't seem like long enough. Your dad died. You _should_ be a mess." I said. This conversation was already making me crave another cigarette. I somehow held back from reaching into my pocket however.

His problem was –and this is where the bullshit resided- that he _did_ chain himself to his room, without sunlight, cleanliness, or company.

His hands rose to his face and he fell back on his unmade bed.

"Oh God, a week from today." I could see tears forming in his eyes again. I looked away, suddenly feeling very awkward when that first choking sob escaped his lips. That cigarette was calling my name, just begging me to light up. I sighed and lifted my hand. What do I do in this kind of situation?

My hand hovered over his body. I hesitated but ultimately decided to suck it up and try to console him in some way. As if I knew anything about comforting people. My hand connected with his leg, right above his knee. I looked away toward the opposite wall while I gave what I supposed was a friendly squeeze.

Either he didn't notice or he just didn't react. I set my right elbow on my knee and hunched over to place my chin in my hand. What the hell did I get myself into?

I idly began to rub that spot, a small area around his knee. I just wanted the sobbing and whimpering to stop, not because I'm cold-hearted and can't find the sympathy but because I've never seen him like this and I've never really been good at this sort of thing.

How did I get myself in this position? I continued to rub. Things were getting pretty intense, how am I supposed to react? Do I sit here quietly? Should I just leave? Now that sounds like it might be a good idea.

I saw him sit up abruptly from the corner of my eye. I looked at him oddly, he seemed shocked by something. I followed his line of vision to his lap.

That's when I realized where my hand was.

I sat up straight, mirroring his previous movements. I took my hand back and grasped it in the other one as if it'd been shot. Somehow, unthinkingly my hand had migrated toward his crotch. I was careless. What the hell was I doing? If things weren't bad enough, now they were worse.

I finally met his gaze and in that split second fear shot through me. He was staring at me intensely, studying my expression.

I wanted to tell him it was an accident. That I was sorry, but before I could his hands had moved up to grasp the hair on either side of my face and he pulled me to him.

He was kissing me and I was stunned. A moment later, a weird sensation ran through me and I was kissing him back forcefully. It was as if there was something deep inside me, all this time that was secretly craving this.

It was hot and our kisses were hard. I exhaled deeply through my nose and I almost hated how needy it sounded. It was back and forth, one trying to overpower the other. When I finally won and began to push him down onto the bed that was when I started to realize what was really happening.

I pulled away and looked down at him. Suddenly, I was saddened by our display. Well, mine at least. I almost felt like I was taking advantage of him, but I dismissed that thought quickly. He wasn't some girl who'd just gotten her heart broken. Still it didn't quite feel right.

It pained me much more than I would have ever imagined when I climbed off him and stood.

"I should go." I stated as I stuffed my hands into my pockets and turned toward the door.

"Wait!" I turned the moment I heard his voice. "Just please, don't go." I hesitated when I caught a whiff of desperation. "Please." This time it sounded less like begging. Instead it was empowered and breathtakingly heady.

That's clearly all I needed because I instantaneously climbed on top of him once again. Now it was faultlessly, unerringly right. Every moment of it. Whatever 'it' was. I straddled his legs and attached myself to his lips. In a flash I realized that this was less about his pain and suffering and more about what we both needed.

Our kisses were feverish and naturally, I began to roll my hips forward. I could feel the stretch of raised eyebrows, shocked by the sensations brought out by my actions. I moved closer to him and my movements became more sporadic.

He finally began to really vocalize with long drawn out groans.

All too soon, I felt myself being lifted and roughly deposited onto his bed. I guess all of the questioning and doubt had finally been removed and in the end the only thing that was left was pure lust.

He ripped my pants from my body and there was no need to wonder what I wanted at that exact moment. However, I had to retract that thought when I realized the position I happened to be in.

I sat up quickly and shot him a confused look.

"No way." I breached the subject.

Yamamoto let out a short laugh. "Yes. How did you think this was going to play out?" He asked smoothly. Would it sound like I had attachment issues if I said that this was the Yamamoto I used to know?

I waved my hands in front of me as a way of saying that I simply was not going to back down. However, this wasn't the naïve Yamamoto from grade school or even the depressed man I'd been attempting to comfort just a few minutes ago. This was a much stronger person.

He shoved me back down, his eyes wide with excitement and he began to rub his groin against mine like I had done earlier. Well, maybe I could let him just this time… No! I won't back down.

Yamamoto fisted my hair again while his mouth found its way to my ear lobe. My eyes drifted closed without me telling them to. Before I knew it I had wrapped one arm around his shoulders and the other one was being smoothed through his short black hair.

My breathing got heavy and I noticed it too late. Even the moan that bubbled from the pit of my stomach came with a complete disregard to my wishes.

"Fine." I announced around a deep groan. I was already regretting my only half-conscious decision when he jumped off of me and dug through the nearest side-table drawer. The bigger fear here was just how much I was _really_ going to regret this decision in the morning.

In seconds (which came as a surprise to me that he could find anything in this mess) he returned with a small pump bottle of lotion. Yamamoto didn't delay in pushing down on the dispenser and pooling a liberal amount in his palm.

He coated two fingers with little patience and went straight for the kill. I tensed up and shut my eyes hard. After awhile I opened my eyes and I gave him a sharp glare.

"You bastard." I growled low. Unfortunately I think my statement merely turned him on even more. He gave me a look that said sorry but he kept his fingers snuggly inside of me.

He slowly began moving his fingers, it was a little too soon for me but who knows if I ever would have been totally prepared for him to continue.

It wasn't until he added another finger that he started actually stretching me out and honestly, none of it felt particularly good. No foreplay for us. Which was oddly exemplary of how we did business. Simply put, we get shit done.

When he thought I was ready –well, it's not like I could really tell, all of it hurt- he pumped out more lotion and coated himself with it.

He moved closer and maneuvered the tip in and I couldn't stop the hiss of pain that it caused. He rubbed my outer thigh and I silently thanked him for the gesture, which was odd –even despite my lack of vocalization- because I was kind of pissed at him due to his inability to be patient by any means.

Like ripping a band-aid off of a leg wound be drove into me with one motion. My head shot backward and my mouth hung open with a silent scream. I'd felt worse.

He languidly moved up my body and kissed around my chin. I moved my head level and let him kiss my lips with a tenderness I no longer thought he possessed.

I let myself get wrapped up in his kisses and soon he began to move. He rocked his hips back then slowly slid forward. Somehow, the bumbling idiot was able to hit a spot that shook my body on his first roll of the dice.

I clawed at his back as my toes began to curl, all as a voiceless plea for him to do it again. He rolled back and slammed forward with much more force and here he was, able to pinpoint its location again. I left long scratch marks across his back and I felt my legs kick and writhe uncontrollably.

With each thrust I could feel myself getting closer. My breathing got heavier in time with his and soon I was panting and moaning with the force of his hips. His pace sped up and he moved farther on top of me, letting gravity pull his hips down along with the strength of his muscles and tendons.

The sensations were like nothing I'd ever experienced and I soon began to choke around each moan. It wouldn't be much longer. Overtop me, Yamamoto's breathing was becoming more and more ragged as time wore on. Each thrust was encased in a heavy, lustful groan.

I told him that I wanted it faster and harder. That I was close. Things were spilling from my mouth that I knew no matter how badly I wanted to take them back, I couldn't.

He did as he was told and he gripped the sheets and shoved all of his weight behind his hips, driving deep inside me and still somehow hitting that spot.

In a flash, it was all over and all that was left were the two of us in a tangled heap of sweat, and cum, and hot flesh. He gripped my shoulders and I could feel his breath on my skin.

Needless to say, I don't fucking cuddle.

I shoved him off of me and he nearly fell straight off the bed. I rolled over and searched the floor for my pants. I spotted them easily and reached into the pocket for a much needed cigarette.

After lighting it and taking that first blissfully relaxing drag, I looked over to see Yamamoto glaring at me. "Oh, I'm sorry. How did you think this was going to play out?" I said, sarcastically repeating the bastard's own words.

Oddly enough, the man cracked a smile. "I'm glad you didn't go."

I looked down after he spoke. I stared at the lit end of my cigarette as if it was the most enthralling thing in the world but I couldn't stop the small upturn of my lips.

"Me too."


	12. If You Want Blood : 39xBel Mature

**Title: **The Mural  
**Fandom: **Katekyo Hitman Reborn!  
**Pairing: **Squalo/Belphegor; High  
**Rock Song: **#12 If You Want Blood by AC/DC  
**Rating: **NC-17 (two in a row?) **Please read the warning below**  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**Warning:** Alright, very explicit stuff in here. I, as the author do not encourage the behavior in this piece. This story contains **blood-play** which is incredibly unsafe. Use a condom.

**.-.-.-.-.-.**

This place quickly became a ghost town. It wasn't before, but it certainly was now. The killing went surprisingly quick. Not a single one of their bullets got fired. That part wasn't surprising.

The town was now so deathly silent, a contrast to the commotion of only moments before.

Everyone else treated the slaughter as strictly business and left when the last resident fell amidst the blood of his community. Everyone disappeared, everyone but him and well, me.

For some reason I knew that he hadn't left. That he was still hunched over his last victim, probably taunting the lifeless form in order to get a few more jollies.

Each corner of the small town I rounded I expected to find him still playing with his prey.

Eventually, after a few minutes I finally located him. He was sitting in front of a small privately owned hardware store, a body at his feet and his hand completely submerged in the dead man's chest and neck. Over the soft wind I thought I heard him say: 'I want you to bleed for me'.

Blood covered the streets and the walls but I could still see what he had been up to. The plaster white-washed wall behind him was coated with spattered blood. Everywhere except where he was sitting. An oval area of white was creating a sickeningly unearthly halo around his body with the cool reflection of moonlight.

I watched him swivel his body around to face the small white expanse behind him. I strode across the deserted street to get closer.

His hands were soaked in blood, especially his finger tips where small droplets fell. He was drawing on the wall; little stick figurines that looked distorted and inhuman especially with the use of his favorite medium.

I approached him slowly despite the fact that he'd known of my presence all along.

"I drew you too." He stated almost giddily.

I looked at the mangled finger painting and it reminded me of a young child's art class. In the center was a slanted one window house and around it stood characters in varying clarity due to the amount of blood he happened to have on his fingertips when drawing each one.

"Which one?" I asked in a humoring manner. He pointed to one with long messy lines attached to what I guessed was my head. "What's that?" I asked while pointing to his childish depiction of me.

"That," he said while pointing as well. "Is a spear going through your head." He stated coolly.

I looked closer and finally saw what he had described. I brought my attention to the other crudely drawn figures and realized that I happened to be the only one he decided to kill off.

He was working on a tree when he finally ran out of blood. So he simply turned and immersed his hands in the dead man's wounds once again. The smile on his face never faltered, and it was beginning to really aggravate me. By this time all I wanted to do was get the hell out of town, but mostly, I just wanted a shower.

"Come on, let's get out of here." I said impatiently.

"Nope. I'm not finished yet." He said with a chuckle. I crossed my arms and exhaled loudly.

He began to hum and he slowed the movement of his fingers which I saw as an act of defiance. He was going to keep us here all night.

With a growl I maneuvered around him and yanked him off the ground by the front of his loose shirt. I quickly shoved him against his 'painting' and held him there with stiff arms.

"We're leaving." I announced angrily. For some reason the thought of his blood mural being smeared against his back was incredibly fulfilling.

"You going to make me?" He asked slyly. "And if I say no?" It came out almost sing-song.

"If I have to." I blew a few strands of hair out of my face and glared down at him. He never stopped smiling. His clothes were rustled and blood soaked. His crown was tilted just slightly, probably from me jostling him. I considered all of these observations as little victories.

"How?" He asked with a faux-innocent tilt of his head. "With these?" He asked as his hands moved up and down my arms. "Or with this?" His hands moved up to either side of my head. I had no idea what he was doing but I let him continue in hopes that it meant that we were leaving.

"Or maybe, you stuck around so that you could fuck me, with this?" He asked slowly, however his hands were fast and they moved to cup my groin.

My lower section immediately darted away but his hand somehow remained.

That crazy fucking bastard. His smile turned insane, well, more insane. At that point, I knew that I had had enough.

I dropped my arms from his shoulders and tried to move away. I'd easily leave without him regardless of my orders.

When my hips stayed stationary I looked down to find his hands firmly holding the waistband of my pants. My eyes darted toward his manic smile and I felt like hitting him.

Instead, I decided to play along with his little game. If only to get out of here faster, of course (_of course_).

"If that's what you want, you got it." I said with a cocky grin.

I spun him around and shoved him face-first into his drawings. His smile remained and despite all the gore around me that was what freaked me out the most.

I pulled his pants down almost angrily and used the pooled blood that was all around us to coat both myself and his insides.

I fucked him hard but his face never changed. Not one noise, not a whimper, or a groan, or a hiss escaped his still creepily upturned lips. I moved in and out of him with a steady but rapid rhythm. He took it all with a sadistically happy expression on his face.

I came shockingly quickly and I pulled out even faster. I shoved myself back into my pants and looked up at the back of his head.

His face was smashed against the wall, the blood soaking slowly into his pores but still he smiled, like the beginning stages of a rotting corpse completely happy with the way they passed on.

I pulled at his neck line again and swung him around. "We're leaving." I yelled into his face.

He calmly fixed his pants and I tried to ignore the wet portion in the front.

He held up a slender finger, "One more thing." He moved over to his painting, most of which was destroyed by now and he eyed the figurine of what was supposedly me. He bent down and shoved his entire palm into the man's chest one last time. Then, without a second thought, he swiped his hand across his drawing of me, completely distorting and eventually smearing it until it was merely yet another bloody marking on the wall. "You got it."


	13. Free Bird : Lanx27

**Title**: Relocking Mechanism  
**Fandom**: Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing**: Lanchia/Tsuna; mild  
**Rock Song**: #13 Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**.-.-.-.-.-.**

I had never felt this way before. In just one moment, he changed everything. Most people feared me or used me, but not him.

For so long I was chained to something I believed to be my destiny. With ease, he made me see that I didn't have to accept what I had as my eternal fate.

The clinking of chains had become so natural, a nocuous part of life. The heaviness of iron bound wrists and ankles bolting me to a life I never wanted but could never escape from.

He released me and for that I could never repay him.

I felt a strong unbridled attachment to him, probably due to the fact that I had always been held to something. This time though, I was drawn to someone that looked past my history and saw me as more than just a tool in some grandiose scheme.

The sensation of freedom, while liberating came a little unwanted. I wanted to be bound to this person. I wished for nothing more than to be placed at his side, but that was far from a possibility.

Never in my life have I wanted to protect someone so badly, but couldn't.

Someday though, I know that these wings that he has granted me will bring us back together.

I've left the chains behind but I'd gladly relock them for him. I will devote my life to the one who saw the human side of me. When that happens I'll have no problems creating new bonds with the one who granted me my freedom.

Until then, I'll be watching from the skies, loving my unrestrained mobility and loving the one who granted it to me.


	14. Born to be Wild : Dx39

**Title**: Apple Plucking  
**Fandom**: Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing**: Squalo/Dino; mild  
**Rock Song**: #14 Born to be wild by Steppenwolf  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**.-.-.-.-.-.**

"Hey, check this out." An eleven-year old Squalo said excitedly as he elegantly jumped from the back of the bench that rested against the side of the wall to the top of the seven foot stone structure.

Dino watched him carelessly. He was used to Squalo's antics. He was sitting on the finely manicured lawn, nursing a new scrape on his knee while munching silently on an apple.

Squalo looked out beyond the wall and opened his arms dramatically. The wind blew through his silver hair as he gazed out beyond the barrier between the mansion and the outside world.

Dino was curious, he wanted to see too but his leg hurt from his walk out onto the lawn. He of course was childishly blind to his clumsiness and most of the time he tried to keep up with his friend it ended with at least a few scrapes and bruises.

Squalo looked over his shoulder at Dino. He noticed him eyeing his apple as if he wanted a taste but Dino wasn't quite sure what exactly his friend was looking at from such an odd angle.

"Come on, suck it up." Squalo said as he moved his line of vision forward once more.

"Fine, fine. Don't try to help me though, I can do it." Dino said while giving his knee one last rub and pushing himself off the grass. He took one last bite of the apple in his hand before chucking it to Squalo. The piece of fruit was a little off target though and Squalo had to lunge for it and steady himself before catching the item. Squalo smiled at the fruit then at Dino before taking a large bite.

Meanwhile, Dino squatted a little and prepared to make a run at the bench. He raced toward the wall and planted a surprisingly firm foot on the backrest of the chair, then leapt up to the top.

Unfortunately, he put too much power into his leap, his clumsiness kicking in once more. Squalo's hands darted out to catch Dino before he fell over and down the ten-foot drop on the other side.

Dino grasped Squalo's upper arms tightly out of fear and hugged him close while he tried to catch his breath.

Squalo looked down at his friend in a way that Dino hadn't ever seen before. He bent his head down and gave Dino a small peck on the lips. A kiss that seemed to define what a first kiss should be like for the two.

Dino just stared confusedly at him for a moment. When Squalo turned his attention down on the seemingly endless vineyard before them, he looked too.

Dino moved away from their now awkward embrace and looked at the apple Squalo had managed to keep hold of. They were silent for awhile, just gazing out at the purple-spotted field below them.

"I told you not to help me." Dino said, crossing his arms in a huff. Squalo just shrugged and took another bite of the apple. He offered it back to Dino but he shook his head.

For some reason the small treat just looked better in Squalo's hands.


	15. London Calling : Dx27

**Title**: Smooth Descent  
**Fandom**: Katekyo Hitman Reborn  
**Pairing**: Dino/Tsuna; medium  
**Rock Song**: #15 London Calling by The Clash  
**Rating**: PG  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters depicted here, nor do I own the song which influenced this piece.

**Still not entirely happy with it, but oh well.**_  
_

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.**_  
_

_He couldn't breathe. In long bubbling gasps his breath escaped his lungs as they were slowly being crushed. With the induction of a sudden chill, the sight of pure blackness shook him all the way into his palpitating heart. His body began to function solely on adrenaline. He was no longer a consciously-controlled being. Instead, he followed his script and was introduced to the impulses from his systematically lessened brain functioning. _

_His throat felt as if someone had wrapped it up within their hands, the intense feeling of searing flesh and flexing muscle tissue against a neck riddled with stubble. Their chipped and yellowed nails making the skin of his chained neck turn a bluish white. His hair whipped around him and lashed against his face like the breaking of a tide. _

_He was drowning. _

_Suspended within the blackness all around him, he became a clear reflection of the choking and breathlessly desperate._

_This wasn't a dream. This was something so much more than that. It was drearily intangible yet it was a physical reality. It was utterly crazy yet hauntingly acceptable. He had learned to just allow it to happen. _

_He had to, because this was his life. If he didn't, who would?_

Dino began nodding off during the meeting. He couldn't take these little get-togethers. Old men swigging their gin or whiskey, smoking their fat, overpriced cigars, and waxing politics. These talks invariably always ended with arguments.

Dino simply didn't want to partake. He was bored. Blinking his tired eyes a few times he looked over at Ramario who looked disgruntled but regardless was still listening to the topic at hand. This was not the time to be dozing. Their legion of families were up in arms, and tensions were rising between families that opposed their method of work.

"Dino was saying the other day how this seemed to be the best form of action. Right, Dino?" Dino perked up at the mention of his name. He looked around and noticed that many of the people that were gathered were nodding their heads.

"Ye-yes. Of course." Dino said while attempting to sit up and look less disheveled. He smiled at Tsuna and silently thanked him for saving his ass.

"Well, on that note, I've got some business to attend to." Tsuna said as he stood. He looked to Gokudera and Yamamoto who were seated on either side of him and motioned with a tilt of his head toward the door. Tsuna walked toward Dino and stopped. "Do you mind? There are a few things I'd like to discuss." Tsuna said casually. Dino knew better, he was probably a ball of twisted nerves on the inside.

"Of course." Dino said, nearly jumping from his chair. He excused himself and followed Tsuna out of the room.

They had only been in London for a few days and already Dino considered it time to leave.

Tsuna's temporary residence wasn't too far from the banquet hall Dino presumed was still being infested by the old men and their fumes. After stepping out of the vehicle Tsuna thanked Gokudera and Yamamoto. The two of them took the gesture as a way of telling them to take their leave. The moment they began to walk away a dispute broke out. Apparently, Gokudera was tired of sushi and Yamamoto had an odd distaste for Italian food.

Dino looked around and saw one last glimpse of Romario as he ducked back into the car. Dino idly reflected on just how well Romario knew him.

Tsuna and Dino quickly made their way to Tsuna's penthouse on the top floor. As Tsuna led the way for some reason Dino was exempt from his clumsiness. It wasn't long before Tsuna realized this and he wondered why that was. He was far from one of Dino's subordinates. It could only result from their level of comfort with each other, if that made any sense at all.

The moment they entered the expansive living arrangements Dino moved over to look out his window.

He looked down at the Thames River and suddenly his breathing became labored. He subconsciously rubbed at his neck, entranced by the slowly moving body of water.

"You okay Dino?" Tsuna asked, coming up from behind him. Dino jumped and spun around to face him. Tsuna had gotten comfortable. He had removed his tie and his suit jacket and generally looked more relaxed.

Dino just stared at him. The river behind him seemed to be rolling and crashing against his back, knocking the air from his lungs.

He closed his eyes momentarily and when he opened them again he looked nothing short of determined. Dino reached forward and moved his hand around to cup the back of Tsuna's neck and pulled him in for a hug.

Tsuna didn't hesitate; he immediately moved his arms around to complete the embrace.

At that instant, he wondered why only moments ago he wanted to leave London so badly. However, right after the thought occurred he could have sworn he heard running water and his throat went dry and tightened immeasurably, blocking that wonderfully paramount air through its rightful passage.

Tsuna tilted his head back and looked over his shoulder toward the bathroom. "Oh, I left the water running." He said excitedly.

He pulled away from Dino's warmth and trotted toward the bathroom.

Dino's breathing became a little easier when he heard Tsuna stop the flow of water.

"I ran a bath. Want to join me?" Tsuna asked in a shy manner, a blush spread about his cheeks. Nothing was more adorable to Dino at that moment; and as tempting as the offer was, he just couldn't. Not with reality pushing down on his shoulders due to the loss of cabin pressure.

Dino swallowed hard. "Maybe another time." Tsuna looked a little disappointed but quickly regained his composure and gave him a small smile, the blush still lying so carelessly beneath his eyes.

Dino motioned him forward and Tsuna approached with a large grin that invaded the pink of his cheeks.

He pulled Tsuna toward him once again.

"Thanks for saving me at the meeting today. I don't know what's gotten into me lately." Dino said a little disparagingly.

"Sure." Tsuna whispered as if he were just trying out his voice.

Dino moved aside the hair in his face and kissed him longingly. What it lacked in passion it made up for in tenderness. It made Tsuna flush once more. A caring kind of heat permeated from one set of lips to the other, encircling their closeness with warmth. He was calling out to him.

In the beginning, Dino regrettably exploited Tsuna's kind nature and the extended hand that he was always willing to provide. Tsuna was always his one and only vice and he felt extremely guilty for the way he used him. Which in the end only led to more distress but now, Tsuna meant so much more.

He was his lifeline.

Tsuna smiled around the kiss, realizing that it was completely devoid of Dino's usual clumsiness. He was ready for a smoother descent into the night.

Dino took a quiet plunge and the words 'I love you' tumbled from his lips and broke against Tsuna's ear drums. Tsuna smiled again and moved instinctively with the strength of the wave. Bouncing back, he repeated his words with mirroring intensity.

Dino simply basked in the sunlight Tsuna exuded. It slowly began to wash away the darkness.

He could deal with the surrounding water. He'd find a way to handle the thrashing power of its weight and the control it held over him.

He would push the harshness of life aside and just let himself drown in Tsuna.


End file.
